


When it's meant to be (it's destiny calling)

by Ideasofmarch



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, Drunk flirting, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Party, Terribly Written Accents, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, david jacobs gives me EMOTIONS, drunk boys, i tried okay, i've been listening to this soundtrack for two weeks straight i have issues, jack and dave get to be happy, no beta we die like hardworking street children, this is just happy no sad times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 04:02:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21068510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ideasofmarch/pseuds/Ideasofmarch
Summary: “Crutchie…” Jack breathed, perking up from his seat on the overly packed couch and clutching his chest like he was holding his heart in place.“Yeah, Jack?”“I think I’s in love.”orthat time Jack Kelly met the love of his life at a good ol' house party





	When it's meant to be (it's destiny calling)

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, i was listening to newsies. needless to say when Dave called Jack 'Jackie' it gave me f e e l i n g s. So uh here's this ig.

“Crutchie…” Jack breathed, perking up from his seat on the overly packed couch and clutching his chest like he was holding his heart in place.

“Yeah, Jack?”

“I think I’s in _love_.”

Crutchie swivelled as best he could from on top of racetrack – who was too engrossed in his game of poker to register Jack’s declaration or let Crutchie out from the bracket of his arms – to look at him.

“Jack.” He started, rolling his eyes at the starstruck look painted clearly onto his best friend’s face, “youse drunk.” Then he squawked when Jack stuck out an arm and pushed his face to the left without moving his eyes.

There, standing awkward as all hell and staring alarmingly at a red solo cup that must have been shoved into his hand, was a brown haired new boy. At least, Crutchie didn’t know him, so he was calling the fact that this kid had probably just moved to town. The boy was tall, hunching just a bit like he was used to having to crouch to meet peoples eyes, and just Jacks type.

“Neva mind, Jackie boy, youse go flirt with the tall boy.” Perhaps not the best advice to give your very drunk friend when he was confronted with his dream boy, but Crutchie was just as if not more drunk from their earlier round of snakes and ladders and shots (which was exactly what it sounded like) so he can’t legally be held responsible for his actions.

“Imma do it.”

“You go get ‘im Jack.”

And jack went, springing up with no warning whatsoever and toppling several people onto the ground as he did it.

Jack was a little – okay, a lot – tipsy. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know his future husband when he saw him.

Until his future husband walked in, Jack had been giving his full, slightly dazed attention to watching Racetrack absolutely destroy the feared Spot Conlon in poker. Really, the amount of sexual tension and subsequent hilarity should not have been possible from a game of poker, and yet. It was by absolute chance that he even noticed dream boy.

He’d heard a sound – an awkward instance that ‘no, no, I shouldn’t be drinking tonight, no thank you, oh well, uh, thank you, I guess’ – and looked up. Jack could wax poetry about that boy. His eyes, oh god his _eyes_, they were the most amazingly unique shade of blue – and they fit so nicely on his cute face. He was tall too, with dark fluffy hair and a sweater vest – _a sweater vest!_ – with a honest to god satchel wrapped around his shoulder.

Something about him just made Jack’s brain go: _Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy_.

So he stood up, more wobbly than expected but up all the same, and suavely – at least, he thought so – made his way over to the dream boat that was now sipping, sort of pathetically, at his watered down alcohol.

This was his future husband he was talking to, Jack had to be smooth, suave, enigmatic…

“Hiya.”

The boy startled, actually looking around to see if Jack could possibly be talking to someone else – why would he ever want to talk to someone else when tall-dark-and-handsome was standing right in front of him? – before smiling hesitantly at Jack.

And If that smile didn’t _do_ things to him.

“Hello.”

“I’m Jack. Jack Kelly.”

He snorted, “And I’m Bond. James Bond.”

Ooh, he was funny too. Jack was liking this guy more by the second. Now, to respond in an equally funny, charming manner.

“Nah, youse my futcha husband is whatcha are.”

Damnit.

Instead of being creeped out, which would be fair, the boy laughed, “Oh I am, am I? you don’t even know my name.”

Jack grinned, “I would if you told me. Or I could call you darlin’? Honey? Babe?”

“Slow your roll, cowboy,” He was smiling – good, that’s good, smiling meant he liked jack, “My name’s Dave.”

“Davey, eh?”

“Dave.”

“Davey sure is a pretty name for a pretty boy.”

“You keep calling me that and I’ll call you Jackie.”

“You’s can calls me whatever you want.” He said with a wink.

Dave huffed a laugh, “Jesus, Buy me dinner first.”

“Oh, if you insist.” Jack was scribbling his number on a piece of paper before the Dave could get a word in edgewise.

“Why do you have a sharpie and notepad on hand?”

Jack snorted, “Says the boy who brought a satchel to a house party.”

Dave raised one eyebrow.

“I like ta draw.” Jack shrugged his shoulders, “I’s always got material on me.”

“Hm, maybe you can show me some of your work.”

“It’s a date.”

Later, at their wedding, Jack would lament that he “been knew”. Les would shoot Jack a thumbs up from behind Dave’s back, almost dropping the rings in the process. Crutchie would roll his eyes but high five the hand Jack extended. Mrs Jacobs would frown in confusion while Medda Larkson shook her head fondly.

And Dave would sigh with his forehead in his hands, hiding a small smile.

They lived happily ever after.

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> :)  
hummus, thoughts?


End file.
